Crescendo
by madsthenerdygirl
Summary: Neither of them will be able to look at Beethoven the same way again.


**Title: Crescendo**

**Rating: It amazes me how M this is. Seriously, the stuff my mind conjures up…**

**Summary: Neither of them will be able to look at Beethoven the same way again.**

**Disclaimer: If wishes were horses…**

**Author's Note: I thought this up in church. Does that qualify me for "the special hell"?**

Beckett shifted from her right foot to her left, faking a smile at someone who walked by. She'd been standing there for over an hour and while Castle might be in his element, chatting to various bankers and other Upper East-side inhabitants, Beckett was nearly dying of boredom.

Noticing a waiter carrying a tray of drinks, she flagged him down and snagged a glass of red. If she didn't get out of this soon, she was going to go insane. Beckett glanced down at the dress she was wearing. It was a dark, rich green, with a fitting, sleeveless bodice and a flowing skirt that hid her long legs. She'd enjoyed picking it out, although she'd hated using Castle's credit card, but now it was just reminding her that she was at this fancy concert instead of at home, curling up with her boyfriend on the couch while they discussed the latest case or watched Looney Tunes.

Speaking of her boyfriend…

Castle had evidently just finished telling a funny story, as the two pompous looking men and the shrewish woman currently surrounding him laughed uproariously. Beckett wandered over. Castle's eyes snapped up immediately, as if she was a magnet and he couldn't help but be drawn to her. She supposed it was true, in a way.

Beckett smiled at him, and Castle returned her grin. He cocked his head slightly, inviting her to join him, and she did so, slipping her arm around his waist while his did the same with hers, and she rested her head against his side.

Castle introduced her to the others, and soon everyone else was chatting away. Castle leaned in towards her, whispering in her ear.

"Don't worry; the concert will start in a few minutes and we can take a nap." He teased.

Beckett swatted him gently. "I'm going to need more than just a nap after dealing with these people all night. You owe me big time."

Castle chuckled, the arm around her waist tightening its hold. "Oh, I'll make it up to you, Detective." He whispered. "I think I'll be able to make it up to myself, too, while we're at it."

"Why; only so much schmoozing you can do before your charm wears off?" She teased.

"Ouch. That hurt, Kate; that hurt."

His affected, wounded pout made her chuckle.

There was the sound of clinking glass and everyone turned. The chairman of the music hall's board – whose annual fundraiser they were currently attending – announced that the concert would start in five minutes, and could everyone please take their seats?

Beckett sighed in relief. Finally; now she could relax, listen to some classical music, and hopefully convince Castle to leave early – and maybe even score some quality time in the limousine he'd rented.

They all filed into the theater. It was almost comical how everyone tried to maintain decorum while simultaneously climbing over one another in an attempt to get to their seats in the packed aisles and rows. Castle took Beckett's hand and gently pulled her along the wall, leading her up the staircase to their private box.

"How did you manage to score these seats?" She asked.

"The guy on the board who was in charge of seating is Emmett's father." Castle explained.

Beckett nodded. Apparently, there were some perks to your daughter dating.

They settled into their seats just as the lights started to dim. Beckett looked around her. They were seated in a small but opulent box (thankfully, alone), and had a good view of the stage with the orchestra. If Beckett looked to her left she could see a few private box seats on the other side of the theater, but the walls and curtains prevented her from seeing any of the boxes or their occupants on her right. She could have seen the audience in the regular seats below her, but only if she stood up and leaned over the railing. Once the lights had gone out completely, it was as if they were alone in the theater.

The orchestra opened with a light tune from Mozart's "Magic Flute". The light coming from the stage was a bright blue, enough to partially illuminate the box seat and allow Beckett to see herself and a dim outline of Castle.

Speaking of Castle… Beckett noticed him shifting in his seat. It piqued her curiosity. Castle certainly had a healthy appreciation for classical music, so that couldn't be why he was moving around. Beckett opened her mouth to ask him what was up when she felt his hand on her thigh.

He'd managed to somehow slip his hand under her dress without her noticing. How the hell he'd managed _that_, Beckett couldn't say, but the fact remained that he was now inching his way up her thigh.

Beckett's underwear immediately became damp. She bit back a whimper. Castle must have sensed it because he started trailing his fingers along her skin, one of his favorite ways to tease her.

She shifted a little, refusing to give him any encouragement. They were in a public theater, one filled with people that Castle routinely rubbed elbows with. If they were caught, they'd be on Page Six before Paula could so much as give a shocked squeal.

But it felt _so good_, the way his fingers were tracing the edge of her underwear, brushing against her clit with just the right amount of pressure. Beckett tugged her lower lip between her teeth, trying not to make a sound. She felt Castle's gaze on her and turned her head slightly. His eyes had zeroed in on the lip she was biting, the pupils dark and dangerous.

Oh, yeah, she'd forgotten that biting her lip really turned him on.

The music changed to something darker, a somber, almost church-like piece. Beckett thought it might have been Bach but she couldn't be sure because Castle's fingers had dipped below her panties now, allowing him to run a finger through her folds.

Beckett inhaled sharply. Now was a really, really bad time to remember that you had a bad habit of screaming during climax. Such a bad habit, actually, that the couple with the newborn baby who lived next door to her complained of the noise the last time Castle had slept over at her apartment.

"Castle!" She hissed. "What the hell are you doiooooh…" Her last word trailed off into a moan as he rolled her clit between his thumb and forefinger.

"I'm making it up to you." Castle replied. He tried to sound nonchalant but she could hear the unmistakable rawness in his voice. He was definitely enjoying this way too much.

Beckett clenched her jaw to avoid making noise as he continued to play with her clit, almost as if it were one of the violins currently sawing away in the orchestra. Castle leaned over to her, his breath hot and curling against her ear.

"Let me make it up to you, Kate." He whispered. His tongue darted out and teased her ear before he sucked on her lobe.

"You better make this quick." She spoke through her clenched teeth. "No teasing this time, Rick." He did have a tendency to prolong things, to hold off on allowing her release.

"No promises, but it might be easier if you were in my lap." He whispered.

Beckett got up from her chair and straddled him in one swift move, not allowing herself the chance to second-guess herself. Castle removed his hand from her underwear, placing a hand on each hip to help her steady herself and balance. He always chose to be a gentleman at the weirdest times. Beckett placed a hand on each of his shoulders, her legs dangling helplessly on either side of his lap.

Castle smiled wickedly up at her as he wrapped one of his arms around her waist, holding her in place. The other immediately found its way back to her dripping heat. Yup, this pair of panties was definitely ruined.

He was respecting her wishes, though, inserting a finger into her and getting straight to work on her clit. Beckett threw her head back, digging her nails into his shoulders. Castle darted his head forward, running his tongue along her breasts and cleavage, tasting the salty slick sweat that had gathered there as she rode his hand.

And _fuck_ was she riding it, grinding into it with abandon, and a part of her was still sane enough to know that this was utterly ridiculous and she had to get him back for this later, but right then, right now it was too much, she was beginning to melt under his expert touch and really, he shouldn't be that good at getting her off after dating her for only a couple of weeks but _seriously…_

Then he stopped. He _stopped_.

Beckett leaned forward, her arms draping around his neck and over the back of the chair, their foreheads touching, her mouth barely an inch from his.

"Say it." Castle whispered, his voice husky and raw.

"Rick…" Her voice was so breathy she almost didn't recognize it as hers.

"Say it, Kate. Tell me what you want." He growled the words that time, and she vaguely registered just how aroused he must be.

"Please – ah – I need you to…" Talking was, apparently, beyond her mental abilities.

But intimidation wasn't.

Grabbing the back of his neck, Beckett locked their gazes and emphasized every word of her next sentence. "Fuck me, Castle."

The music was now playing something from Beethoven, reaching a sweeping crescendo that undoubtedly held everyone else enthralled, but by the look in his eyes Beckett knew that the only thing Castle could hear were her words, dripping with sex and naked desperation.

He started moving again, his fingers thrusting up into her, hitting _that spot_ in her again and again and again and again until it all came crashing down around her, the wave of her orgasm striking her like a tsunami, knocking her off-balance and pulling her under, drowning her in a world of buzzing, humming sensation.

Castle crushed her body against his, pinning her against him and allowing her to bite into the chords of his neck, muffling her sobs as she came. She was sobbing; there was no other word for it, and her body was shuddering so violently that Castle had to maintain a pretty tight grip to stop her from falling off of his lap.

Even after her climax had faded, she still felt boneless, like she was going to melt into a puddle if he let go of her. He didn't, though, understanding that she needed a minute, waiting for her breathing to completely even out and her body to regain some form of control over itself.

She slid off of him, groaning, adjusting her dress and taking off her underwear; there was no point in wearing them now. Having taken care of business, she settled back into his lap, curled up against his chest instead of straddling him.

"Does that make up for the party?" Castle asked, one of his hands trailing lightly up and down her arm.

She smiled. He knew the answer to that question. "Yes." She murmured. "But I'll feel even better if you allow me to return the favor."

He chuckled. "Always."

The music had changed again, soothing and sweet, and Beckett allowed it to dance around her, floating around them like a magical bubble and almost caressing them with its tune. Beckett couldn't help but think of how fitting the piece was.

Beckett lasted roughly nine minutes before her impatience, and her sex drive, were back in full force. She lifted her head and gazed at Castle.

"Would it be unbearably rude if we snuck out, now?" She asked.

"Why, Detective." He said, that rakish smile of his making an appearance. "I thought you'd never ask."

She clambered off of him and he stood up, offering her his arm as they quietly left the box.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"So tell me, darlings, how was the fundraiser?" Martha asked, gesturing grandly with a glass of merlot as they entered the loft.

"There were certainly some intense pieces." Castle said, and Beckett had to quickly look away to hide her smile.

"Is John Haycroft still running the board?" Martha asked, waving her hands for them to join her in the kitchen.

"Yes; he was in charge of the fundraiser." Castle said, accepting the offered glass of wine. Beckett took the glass Martha gave her with relief – after a few frantic rounds in the limo, she needed a pick-me-up.

Martha's face got a little wistful, the way it did whenever she reminisced. "I remember when I dated him… you were about six, Richard. He was such a stiff man but let me tell you, there was this one piece by Beethoven that we once made love to and it did wonders for his–"

Castle was used to his mother shocking him and was able to quickly swallow his mouthful. Beckett wasn't so lucky, covering her mouth to prevent herself from spitting her wine, only to trigger a coughing fit.

Martha had kept talking during this time, seemingly unaware of her audience's reaction. "It always amazed me, but I suppose that Beethoven was such a passionate composer that it shouldn't be a surprise his music is so fitting for sex."

"Mother!" Castle spluttered as Beckett came dangerously close to choking with laughter.

"I'm just saying!" Martha Rodgers said airily. She set down her glass of wine. "Well, I'm off to bed. Have a good night, darlings!"

Castle watched her leave with an expression of relief. "Thank God that's over with. The idea of you and my mother both… Beckett, it is not funny!"

By then, Beckett had sunk to the floor of the kitchen with laughter.

**So tell me, dear readers – will those stuffed-shirt symphonies still be boring after this? Just a side note, but Emmett, the boy mentioned as Alexis' boyfriend, is Alexis' romantic interest from my other story "Locked Rooms and Odd Couples". Just thought I'd throw in a reference, ha ha. I also threw in a very, very subtle reference to Vesja's story "Sleep and It Shall Soothe You". Can you find it, Sanne? Be sure to check out Vesja's amazing writing, everyone!**

**Pop quiz time! My disclaimer was a popular saying, but it was also the first half of a "Firefly" quote. Let's see if anyone can finish the second half! The quote/saying, which I used for my disclaimer, was "If wishes were horses…"**


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